Orange Blood
by SugarButter
Summary: Mike wakes up feeling like death and Marionette is there to make him feel better. That is, until Mike gets a call. Everything goes downhill from there. Based off the story Can't Go Home Again by Mable. Be sure to read that before reading this! One-shot.


Mike groaned softly as he opened his eyes. He felt like death. At some point he'd curled around so much his head was completely off his pillow, so now he had a crick in his neck. His head pounded like someone was continually hammering his skull. He felt so cold even under the large comforter on the master bed as he was sweating a river. His stomach was aching and wanted to get rid of all it's contents, but he knew he'd only feel worse.

He peered over at the Puppet's side of the bed, who was laying on the edge of the bed about to fall off. Mike wondered why for only a second before realising he'd probably pushed him with all his moving.

"Mike? You awake?" Mari asked softly, looking over him worriedly. "You were running a marathon and a half last night, any reason?"

"Stop talking so loud." He groaned and pushed his head under the pillow. Part of him knew from Mari's tone that he was talking just above a whisper, but each word pounded against his brain like a baseball in a glove. Marionette wordlessly wrapped Mike in his arms and laid his cool porcelain face against Mike's damp neck. Mike melted into the embrace and closed his eyes, trying to get rid of the ickiness. Though his brain had other plans.

"Mari, could you grab me some Tylenol?" His stomach pinched again and he groaned. "And 30 mL of Pepto Bismol." Mari, knowing his head was probably hurting too much to get a vocal response, nodded against his neck and vanished into the kitchen, coming back with the medicine and a Gatorade. "Thanks."

The man pulled himself into a sitting position to not spill the sweet pink liquid, and popped the two Tylenol in his mouth and a gulp of blue drink before taking the sugary medicine. He cringed at the sweetness and forced the acidy feeling back in his throat. Already his stomach felt better.

Mari placed a hand on his forehead and quietly whispered, "Tylenol helps with fevers, right? You feel too warm." Mike nodded softly.

"Give me ten minutes and I'll watch something with you, Doll. Can you call Fritz and tell him I won't be in today?"

"Mike... the pizzeria is closed today. It's Sunday." Mike frowned at this. His memory was so hazy he'd forgotten.  
"Ohh yeah." Mari chimed lowly before warbling and wrapping Mike in a hug with his slender arms. The Puppet then proceeded to run his hand through Mike's dark locks.

"I love you Mike."

"I love you too Doll." Mike closed his eyes and hummed softly as his lover's fingers ran through his hair.

They sat there for a while, neither wanting to break the moment. Nobody until Mike jumped suddenly out of Mari's grasp, racing to the bathroom to puke. He sauntered back in a minute later, looking at Mari tiredly.

"You wanna watch a movie?" Mari nodded before leading Mike down the stairs into the living room and flipping on whatever was on the TV, which happened to be an old rerun of _Fredbear's Adventures._ Mari pulled Mike into his lap and let the man lay down, keeping his head in his lap. Mike mustered up a smile for Mari, but Mari knew he was still in pain and frowned. "Get some sleep Mike. I want you feeling better."

Mike closed his eyes and cuddled against Mari's legs, but couldn't sleep. Mari though seemed content with his eyes closed, or maybe he thought he was asleep. He began stroking Mike's hair softly and smiled down softly at the man, more than happy to take care of him. After a while, Mike felt him leave, but must've dozed off because he was gently shaken by the Puppet who held out a bowl of chicken soup for the sick man.

"I didn't want to wake you, but you need something in your stomach." Mari sounded a little bit bad, but handed the bowl to his human companion. He smiled tiredly at the animatronic and slowly spooned a mouthful into his mouth before setting it down and smirking at Marionette.

"There, now I have something in my stomach." He said softly, and the Puppet chimed with light laughter. "Mike, eat your soup." Mike quietly picked up the spoon and ate a few more bites as Mari sat on the couch next to him, unpausing the now paused, which Mike hadn't realised was paused, TV and letting the stupid comedy show about four friends continue. At one point, one of the guys did something so stupid that Mike laughed and spat soup all over. Marionette couldn't help but chime at his embarrassment.

After Mike finished his soup, he curled up against Mari's side and closed his eyes, instantly returning to sleep. Mari wrapped a comforting arm around him and watched him sleep, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath. Of course, the ringing phone of "Toreadors March" had to ruin the moment. Marionette quickly teleported to the phone and answered it to silence the ringing, glad to see Mike freestanding (freesitting?) without Mari's support and was still dozing away.

"Hello?" He nearly whispered into the phone.

"Hello, is there a Michael Schmidt there?" A lady asked over the phone lazily. The voice wasn't easily recognised as anybody Mike knew or frequently called, and the lady didn't ask for 'Mike', so most likely this was some business call.

"He's asleep, may I ask who's calling?" He answered back. "This is Melinda from Sutter Health. I'm calling for Michael Schmidt to inform him of his lab results from his check-up appointment two days ago."

Oh, right. Mari had nearly forgotten of him getting tested. He distinctly remembered Michael saying how blood shouldn't look so orange.  
"Hang on just a minute, let me go get him now." Mari said into the phone. But instead of waking up Mike, like he should have done, he changed his voice to mimic Mike's.

"Hello?" Mari asked into the phone with Mike's voice. "Is this Michael Schmidt?" Melinda asked, and Mari smirked. "It is he."

"Well, you have stage 2 Leukemia. In three days, on April 16th, you have a four o'clock appointment with Dr. Carmens to discuss this further. Good day." She hung up, most likely because she didn't want to hear 'you've got it all wrong' from people. **(Disclaimer: I have no idea how this works XD)**

Marionette wasn't stupid, he knew that Leukimia was a type of cancer. The fact that Mike had such a deadly disease... he looked over to said male and quickly pulled Mike into his lap and desperately stroked his hair, trying to reassure himself Mike was fine. Unfortunately, this action roused Mike yet again.

"Mari? Doll, what's going on?"

"Mike... why didn't you tell me?" Mari asked softly to the man waking up, who looked confused. "Mari, what do you mean? I've told you everything! Is this about that cold sore last week, cause I didn't think it mattered since your lips are-"

"Mike! I'm talking about your Leukimia!" Mari yelled over his raspy voice. His face morphed into more of a surprised and bewildered face.

"I'm lost, what are we talking about?" Mike asked, and Mari held him closer, as if it was the last time he would be able to hold him. "You didn't tell me the hospital was testing you for Leukemia." Mari whispered.

"That's a blood test... they always do blood tests, Mari! Are you saying that you think I have cancer?"

"I know you have cancer, Mike. The hospital called... I didn't want to wake you... Mike, please tell me the truth. Are you going to die?" Mari's face betrayed his mixed emotions. He was mad, not at Mike but at whatever made him sick. He was scared, his Mike might be taken away from him. He was worried Mike would be in pain. He was glad that Mike hadn't lied. He was terrified that Mike would die and he couldn't leave, he couldn't be with Mike. He was so... afraid.

"I'm not gonna let some stupid disease take me from you, Mari." Mike cupped his porcelain face and continued. "I've been through worse. Don't make me remind you of when I fell through that nasty floor at Afton's. The worst thing that might happen is I might lose my hair, so as long as you're okay with me bald for a little bit then nothing will be wrong." Mike soothed and tried not to laugh as he explained to Mari about the baldness.

"Why... would you lose your hair? I _love_ your hair, don't cut it off!" Mari ran his slender fingers through his hair as though to emphasize his point. "Well, the chemo makes your hair fall out, so if I need chemo then my hair is done for." He chuckled dryly. "Now I'm tired and want to watch a movie, come lay down with me. I'm lonely." Mike laid his head against Mari's buttons and wrapped his arms around his waist, silently closing his eyes. Mari laid his mask into Mike's dark locks and closed his eyes too, listening to Mike's breathing slow down. Marionette then felt guilty when he realised he'd needed to be there for Mike but was too busy with his inner turmoil, _again._ "I'm sorry Mike." He whispered to the sleeping man, who made a grunting noise and turned his head, his legs curled up underneath him. Mari embraced him tightly and smiled softly. Mike was right, he wouldn't let some stupid illness take him. "I love you."

* * *

 **Just a little sad fluff. All rights to the plot belong to Mable, and the FNAF games belong to Scott Cawthon. Thanks for reading!**

 **I wanna clarify that I have pretty much 0 knowledge on how cancer works, so it's pretty much guessing cause I'm lazy and can't be bothered to research it.**


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